December 1967

"Now Jan, are you quite sure about seeing Santa?"

"Yes, Mommy". As nine year old Jan Martin stood in line in the department store with her Mother and her sister Cindy, she thought about what she would say to Santa when her turn came. She was wearing her prettiest blue coat, and she had brushed her hair that morning till it shone. She turned the phrase over and over in her head.

"Please, Santa, I would like you to bring my Daddy back".

She had to do it, because it was her fault that her Daddy was gone. Last Christmas Eve seemed like such a long time ago now but Jan could still remember every detail of those strange and dark couple of hours. And she had thought it was the most amazing moment of her life …

December 24th 1966

"Marcia, I think I just heard Santa Claus!"

Jan had just been awakened by a noise downstairs. She was excited now as she whispered across to her sister but Marcia just rolled onto her front and covered her head with her arms. Jan quickly glanced at the clock above Cindy's bed. 11 o'clock at night! "It doesn't matter" murmured Jan to herself, getting out of bed. "I'll just see Santa on my own". She hurried downstairs in her pajamas.

The living room at the front of the house was still lit by the dwindling fire her parents had left burning in the fireplace. Though the light of the fire was dim, she could see the stockings she and her sisters had hung from three nails on the wooden mantelpiece – and they were stuffed with toys, books and candy. And who was that, shuffling towards the living room door under the weight of a heavy sack? "Santa!" gasped Jan, as the figure turned round to look at her. Yes, he had a long white beard, and a red and white suit and hat. "Jan", he replied in a low voice, "you weren't supposed to see me".

"I know kids aren't supposed to see Santa but I won't tell anybody, I promise", whispered Jan. "Wow, you've got an army kit-bag, just like my Daddy had in Korea". Then all of a sudden, another thought struck her. "Did you get me a Barbie doll like I asked for in my letter?"

"Have a look in your stocking", the familiar figure replied as he headed into the entrance hall. "Goodnight now, Jan Martin". Jan hurried over to where her stocking was hung and seized it down. Sitting cross-legged on the rug in front of the fire, she could see she'd been given candy canes, chocolate guardsmen … and a slim cardboard box, with the highly coveted Barbie gazing out through a clear plastic panel. "Oh Barbie, I'm so lucky", crooned Jan to the doll, as she began to free it from the packaging. "I got to see Santa on Christmas Eve". She began to sing. "Sleigh bells ring, la la la la" … Any minute now, she would hear the sleigh bells tinkle as Santa flew up into the sky with his reindeer. But instead she heard the familiar sound of the Martin family Chevrolet as it backfired. In that moment, Jan got to her feet and, leaving Barbie behind, ran over to the front door, realising that something was appallingly wrong. The car was speeding away as she opened the door, with the army kit-bag strapped to the roof rack. Slamming the door behind her, she ran back into the house and up the stairs to her parents' bedroom, screaming "I want my Daddy" as she ran into the dimly- lit room. The shocked, tearful faces of her Mother and older sister were there to greet her.

"Jan, your Father's left us", said Carol, who was sat up in bed. "He didn't even say goodbye", sobbed Marcia, who was sat next to her, "he just left Mommy a note". A confused and sleepy- looking Cindy stumbled into the room. "Cindy, Daddy ran away from us", cried Jan, who was also in tears. "He dressed up as Santa Claus and he took all his things away in his army bag!" She threw herself on the foot of the bed and started crying even harder.

December 1967

"I'm going to ask Thanta for a doll'th pram and a bithycle with thtabilizerth and a …"

"Cindy, Santa won't give you anything if you're greedy", admonished Carol, "and none of that sticking out your lower lip". Jan was trying not to cry now as she thought of the night her father had left them. Reflecting upon that Christmas Eve, she could scarcely believe he had played her such a mean trick, or that she had fallen for it. Well, this was her chance to make it up to her mother and sisters. She was on her way to meet the real Santa Claus now, and he would make everything alright.

"Little girl with the long hair".

"He's calling you, Jan", smiled Carol. He had to be the real Santa; he looked so old, not like her Daddy. Jan marched right up to him.

"Come up and sit on Santa's knee", he told her, and she settled herself down on her lap as Carol smiled again and nodded. "What's your name little girl?"

"Jan Martin", said Jan.

"And what would you like for Christmas?" Jan knew now she would be wasting her time asking to have her Daddy back.

"I'd like a new Daddy".